Broadway Is Dark Tonight
by Jade Reilly Gates
Summary: Draco, now known as Lucien Winslow, is an Auror, after renouncing the Dark Lord. Harry Potter's dead. Ron’s gone missing. Hermione is a newly accepted order, working as partner with Lucien. Sparks fly, but can they get past old traumas and difficulties?
1. World Falls Away

Chapter One-World Falls Away 

Draco had gone through hell and back in the past two years. After failing to eliminate Dumbledore, he'd been ashamed, orphaned and cast out; he denounced what loyalty he was forced into to the Dark Lord and he escaped him, though a narrow miss. He'd gotten into a duel with Voldemort himself and had experienced the same effect as Harry Potter had the year before, but he'd used a simple Stunning Spell. Priori Incantatum had given Draco enough time to run away, though the Death Eaters, having abandoned their wands, beat him as he ran. He had learned how to become an Animagus, choosing the form most fitting for him. He turned himself into a ferret and ran for it.

He'd gone to the Ministry, broken from the narrow lead he'd taken upon the "almighty" Lord Voldemort, and they sent him to train as an Auror, saying that if he was going to be around asking for help, he might as well be some use for them. He registered himself as an Animagus and settled himself into London, with what little money still lay in his deceased father's bank account.

When he'd taken to training to be an Auror, he had, as per the Ministry's request, dyed his hair a rich shade of black (whereas his platinum blonde was his and his family's trademark) and he'd changed his name to Lucien Winslow. Since most knew him by his "slimy, greasy blonde head," no one put two and two together into realizing who he was. Draco Malfoy had become the biggest mystery in the Wizarding world.

He'd been going through rigorous training with some of the less prolific Aurors until he became somewhat confident in his ability to fight against the people he'd lived among for his entire life. At this time, he was prepared to go through the Auror trials. As Lucien, he faced the trials with a brave heart Gryffindor would be envious of, cunning to make Slytherin proud, and strategies worthy of Ravenclaw's intellect.

When he'd become certified, he began the normal duties of an Auror. He began training others, helping them through the trials he'd been through. He was a quick study and therefore teaching came easy to him. When he wasn't helping hopefuls, he stayed to himself. He kept himself busy, trying not to think of anything past the year before, but sometimes his mind would slip.

Voldemort was still at large, and that fact still bothered him. The fact that his archrival of six years, Harry Potter, had been killed six months later, and once again, he had crippled the Dark Lord into hiding once again bothered him too. He'd heard rumors that this time it was not the love of his mother, but the love of a certain Hermione Granger that had crippled Voldemort, but wasn't strong enough to save Potter.

Draco spent many days and many nights contemplating this wonder and defeat. He remembered Harry from school, and he always envied him. Always. Not only the fact that he was everyone's favorite, and that he always got away with everything, there was one major reason he never told anyone.

All those years he spent tormenting people, he never thought to admit that he was in love with a Muggle-born witch. Let alone Hermione Granger….He turned over in his bed, laying on his side and looking out his apartment window. He felt suddenly melancholy thinking so much about his past.

-That's all in the past,- he thought to himself. –There's nothing I can do.- He sighed and bit his lip, shutting his eyes and attempting to sleep. He finally let himself fall into an uneasy, easily disturbed sleep. He woke up numerous times during the night, hearing noises outside his apartment, and finally at about three a.m. he crashed, and didn't wake up for a couple of hours, until a member of the Auror squad called him on what the Muggles called a "cell phone." All Aurors had to carry one for communication purposes.

He heard the blasted contraption ring and he groaned, dragging himself out of bed and grabbing the small device. He answered it finally.

"Kingston, what do you want?" he mumbled into the phone. He looked wan and tired as he glanced down to the ground, rubbing his forehead. He looked uninterested in what the man on the other end of the contraption was going to say to him. "Make it quick. I have to get dressed and ready." He yawned, ruffling his newly (again) dyed black hair. It now fell to the middle of his back as he hadn't cut it since he left the "Dark Side."

"Oh, I just wanted to inform you that we have a new addition to the force," Kingston said in a tinny voice over the phone. "It's a young woman. Her name's Hermione Granger."

Draco dropped the phone.


	2. Collide

Chapter Two-Collide 

"Lucien? You there, lad?" Kingston's voice came from the receiver. Draco looked to the floor and hurriedly picked up the contraption and held it to his ear.

"Sorry, Kingston, the phone slipped. Not used to these bloody things yet, you know?" Draco lied smoothly.

"Oh, okay; well, you'll have to come and meet with her today before noon; she's your new partner; you know how the boss man's been looking for a suitable partner for you," Kingston said. "It seems she's the only one we've encountered with an intelligence that almost surpasses yours."

_-Almost my ass,- _he thought with a knowing smirk. "All right, Kingston, let me get dressed and I'll be right over." He clicked the phone off before Kingston could say another word, and he threw the phone on the bed.

"Shit," he muttered as he grabbed a pair of black slacks over his silver boxers and a black long sleeved shirt, pulling it over his newly dyed black head. He pulled on white socks and black boots over them. He swept his hair, now quite long and black, up into a low ponytail, securing it with a black rubber band. He took a glance in the mirror, rolled his eyes and walked out the door of his apartment, Apparating to the Ministry of Magic.

He walked into his department, looking around lazily. He spotted Jack Kingston; he was an old Scottish wizard, his body sagging under the weight of the years. He'd come to the Ministry in England to help with the Voldemort crisis. He was second-in-command, thanks to his rank in his own country.

Draco waved to the old wizard, and Kingston waved back. He began to move toward Draco, and suddenly (it seemed) out from behind him walked a radiant young girl.

_-Hermione Granger-,_ Draco thought, trying to keep his composure and trying to not let his face color. -_Remember, she doesn't know you…-_ he thought dismally. He began to walk toward the pair and they met halfway in the hall.

"Kingston," Draco said curtly. "And this must be Hermione Granger. How we've heard of you. I'm Lucien Winslow." He was putting on his bravest and most polite face as he held out his hand for the girl to shake.

"Pleasure," she said with a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. To Draco it seemed somewhat forced. She shook his hand lightly, then withdrew. Draco smiled back at him.

"We're so glad to have you as an addition to our department," Draco said honestly. -_Stop it; you're sounding eager,- _he thought to himself.

"Do I know you?" Hermione asked, her curious look from school firmly in place on her face. Draco's cheeks colored a light pink.

"I think I would remember," he lied painfully, smiling although it felt like his heart swelling and pounding in his chest was ripping him apart.

"You remind me of someone…but no, you couldn't be him," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Who, if I may inquire?" Draco pressed.

"Oh, he's probably dead by now; he's been in the papers as missing for over a year; oh, if you insist, you remind me of Draco Malfoy."

Kingston glanced at Draco. "Lucien" was stunned, but kept his cool and composure nonetheless. "Draco Malfoy, huh?" he asked. "Interesting." His mind was screaming as he said this. He was beginning to develop a headache. -_How could she have seen through me so quickly?-_ he wondered. -_It's not like she really knew me. She made a point not to.-_ "Well, anyway; I'm sure Kingston has shown you around?"

"Yes, he has; I've never been in this part of the Ministry before," she admitted. "Fascinating." Draco smiled.

"Well, I'll show you to our office," he said. "Come along." He motioned for her to follow him, and she did. She seemed much more meek than she had at school. _Potter,_ he reminded himself.

They reached the end of the hall, and Draco turned into the very last room before the wall. Hermione looked a bit confused as she followed him into a somewhat cramped little room, pictures strewn on one of the desks, but the other was sadly abandoned; it seemed as if no one had inhabited it for quite some time.

"You've been working alone for quite a while, haven't you Mr. Winslow?" Hermione asked. Draco tried his damnedest not to blanch at the name. Instead he shook his head.

"They say they couldn't find someone who was my intellectual equal," he said. "I don't exactly agree with them, but hey, take compliments when you can get 'em, right?"

_-Definitely not Draco Malfoy,-_ Draco could almost hear Hermione thinking after he'd said that. The truth was, Draco had had some real wake-up calls to his behavior, and a couple humbling fights and arguments.

"I see; and I guess I'm the first that's come close?" she asked, trying hard to start a pleasant conversation. Very unlike Hermione…but then again, he wasn't Draco Malfoy to her anymore.

"More than close," he mumbled. Hermione looked confused; she obviously hadn't heard him. He was glad for that.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing; just talking to myself," he said, trying to smooth over the ripple in his cool. Hermione tilted her head at him.

"Are you feeling well?" she asked him.

"I'm fine, thank you." He pushed a few stray strands of hair off his cheek.

He dared to take a glance at Hermione. She had grown into her figure; her body curving much like an hourglass in a simple, somewhat short magenta dress and black sandals. Her hair was half pulled back, the other half of her curly mane cascading down her shoulders in wild waves. She had the slightest tinge of makeup on her face. Her honey eyes sparkled sadly as he took a daring glance into them, but then looked away, his silver eyes traveling around the room. Draco assumed she wanted to make a good impression, because Hermione never dressed like that in school. He sighed to himself. He had to tear his eyes away from her once again as they gravitated to her. He sat in his chair to distract himself.

"So, we've all heard about you, Miss Hermione, but no one really knows about you," Draco said, surprising even himself with his even tone. "Tell me a bit about yourself."

Hermione suddenly looked flustered as she put the book she'd been carrying on the other desk, leaning against the dusty wood.

"Well, first off, let me state that I'm a Muggle born witch," she stated, obviously trying to get a rise out of him. He got as tingling feeling on his spine. Her gaze was penetrating. He had the distinct feeling she wasn't satisfied wither own explanation of Draco Malfoy.

"Do you expect me to say that's a problem?" he shot back at her politely. Again, the truth of this little revelation was his immersion in the Muggle world before he was able to begin training to become an Auror. He learned many things from the people he used to call "dirty."

"No, no, of course not," she replied, somewhat embarrassed. "Um, I grew up with my parents, who were…dentists, and when I was eleven I got a letter to attend Hogwarts, which I'm sure was where you attended, though I don't remember you. I graduated last year, and have been…well, you know the story." She directed her eyes downward and Draco smirked slightly. "What about you, Lucien?"

_-Oh shit,-_ he thought. "Well, since you stated your parentage, I'll state mine; my parents were both wizards, though my mother was the product of a wizard and a Muggle." He was making this up as he went along. "I did indeed go to Hogwarts."

"What year did you graduate?" she inquired. Draco was stuck again, seeing as he didn't exactly get his diploma, considering he was on the run.

"Before you, Hermione," he resigned to saying. She nodded, most likely still suspicious. -_She always was the smartest one,-_ he thought.


	3. Things I'll Never Say

Chapter Three: Things I'll Never Say

Draco sighed softly, trying to concentrate on his paperwork, but he could hear Hermione rustling about beside him, putting things in their places inside her new desk. He glanced over once every couple minutes, and that was stealing precious time for his work. Soon he got slightly irritated, and glanced at her.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger, I'd appreciate it if you could make just a tad less noise," he said to her in his most professional voice. It seemed Hermione was becoming less and less suspicious of his true identity.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Lucien; just trying to settle in, you know," she said with a slight apologetic grin.

"Don't think anything of it; I just ask you be a bit quieter with your 'settling in,'" he said with a trace of his old smirk dawning on his face. He looked away, back at the paperwork quickly, however.

"All right," she said, picking up a book and beginning to read it, leaning back in her chair, her hair cascading down the back of the chair as he glanced up. She looked stunning in the early afternoon glow coming from a small window near the ceiling of the small room. He ripped his eyes away, picking up a file and placing it on her desk.

"Here, let's start you with this one," he said. "It's a simple assignment. Lately we've been getting a lot of requests for help from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"Oh, is Arthur Weasley still working there, by any chance?" Hermione asked somewhat eagerly.

"Not at this very moment; he has been out of the office for quite some time looking for his youngest son," Draco said professionally.

"Ron…" Hermione whispered, sighing and taking the file. "So, what's this all about?" She tried to cover up her emotions by immersing herself in her work, as always. That was Hermione after all.

"Someone had bewitched something, as always," Draco said. "Probably just playing a joke or something. I think it said something about toilet paper."

"Why can't the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts take care of this?" Hermione asked curiously, scanning over the file.

"They're missing about six of their staff members and more and more of these reports keep coming in," Draco pointed out. "They're booked solid. Overbooked sometimes. That's why the boss gave some to us whenever we have some downtime, like today. We don't really have much more to do than this, unfortunately. You came at a very dead time."

Hermione looked crestfallen. Draco gave a slight upturn of the lips and shrugged.

"I thought we'd be going at You-Know-Who," she said, a sigh on her lips as she leaned back in the recliner chair.

"There has been no word of him for over a year, Miss Granger," he said, with a slight sigh himself.

"Please, call me Hermione," she said cordially, re-scanning the file. Draco looked slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. "So, bewitched toilet paper? Sounds like something the twins would do…"

Draco looked down and fell back onto the chair. "There has been more and more of it. I believe it's the Death Eaters trying to keep us off You-Know-Who's trail. There -has- been an increased mortality rate, especially with Muggles."

"Sounds like him all right," she said softly, her voice hitched in her throat as she looked down, putting the file on the desk.

"Hermione, are you all right?" he asked, his brows furrowing together concernedly, and he leaned forward.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you Lucien," she said, picking the file back up. "I'll take care of this right away," she said, once again putting herself inside her work to forget her troubled mind.

Oh, how Draco admired that ability.

She Disapparated from the office, and Draco was left by himself. He plopped down in his chair and began working on the file he'd been scanning.

Hermione popped up in Ottery St. Catchpole. This seemed eerily familiar, and it made a knot in her stomach.

She glanced up one of the hills, and a shock of pain ran through her heart. That was where Ron, Harry, Ginny and the twins used to play Quidditch, like there was nothing else in the world. The thought made her sad, but she kept going, until her eyes fell upon the Burrow. It looked mostly abandoned, only the gnomes were a sign of life in the dismal house, with its many stories climbing high into the sky. She began to remember the days and months she used to spend there. She began to cry; the tears streaming silently down her face.

She longed for her childhood again.

She turned away, down the cobblestone street, looking at the file again. It was just down the street. She'd never seen a Muggle house on this street, which she found odd that she got an assignment from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office.

She got a chill as she walked closer to the house that was specified. It looked dismal and empty, almost foreboding as she came closer to the darkened door. She knocked twice, and the door creaked open. She heard a muffled yelling from the back of the house. She rushed toward it.

Upon reaching the farthest room in the house, she came upon the oddest sight she'd ever seen in her life.

There was a poor Muggle man, completely wrapped in toilet paper, his mouth covered, hence the muffled screams.

"_Diffindo_!" Hermione shouted, and the paper fell away, as if severed by a very sharp knife. It began twitching on the floor. "_Evanesco_!" The tissue paper disappeared completely. She walked up to the Muggle man and tapped her wand to his temple. "_Obliviate_." The man got a dreamy look on his face, then glanced at her.

"Hello, who are you?" he asked.

"I'm just a figment of your imagination," she replied, turning around and walking toward the door.

"Bye, figment," she heard him shout to her retreating back. She giggled softly to herself and walked out the door, Apparating back to her office.

Draco had been reading when she popped back in. His eyebrows rose slightly as he looked at her.

"That was quick," he remarked.

"It wasn't hard, Lucien," she said with a slight trace of a small smile on her lips. "The paper had a Muggle man bound. I severed it, made it disappear, and used a Memory Charm on him." She merely shrugged. "Not hard at all. I'm sure you could have done it as easily as I did."

Draco chuckled. "Everyone will be quite impressed, Hermione. It's always good to make a good impression on your first day." Hermione gave him a friendly smile and sat back down in her chair.


	4. You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive

Chapter Four: You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive

Hermione felt somewhat proud of herself for taking care of the Muggle incident, but as she said, to her, it wasn't hard. She smiled at Lucien. Lucien chuckled and opened his mouth to speak. "Everyone will be quite impressed, Hermione. It's always good to make a good impression on your first day."

Hermione smiled slightly, sitting down in her desk, shutting her eyes. _–Why did it have to be Ottery St. Catchpole? Why?-_ she thought to herself. She could feel the tears choking her as they rose in her eyes, threatening to fall. _–Ron and Harry were the only two that ever really understood me, and now they're gone. That's it. I'm just going to bury myself in my work. But even that doesn't work anymore. It can't hide the pain anymore.-_

She felt the tears rising higher and faster, and soon she couldn't hide them. She sighed to herself and pulled up her book, beginning to attempt to read. She couldn't, however, because her eyes were blurry from the tears threatening to fall. She closed the book and just stared at the cover.

Lucien had taken a chance glance at her, his brow furrowing. –_How could I have thought this was Draco Malfoy?-_ she thought._ –He's so different. But he looks like him. So much like him. Maybe that would just be one touch of reality. Some touch of my past that's still alive.-_

She sighed softly and traced the spine of her book. She didn't even know what book it was she was attempting to read. She could hear Lucien fumbling around in his desk and she looked up. Their eyes met for a brief moment.

"Are you all right?" Lucien asked softly, tossing his long black hair off his shoulder. It didn't look natural, Hermione noted. She hadn't noticed the tears cascading down her face.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you," she said. Lucien didn't look convinced. He kept a steady gaze on her. "I've just had a rough year, you know?"

"So I've heard," Lucien said with a tug of his lips, an upturn on the left side of his mouth. A half smile; it was sympathy.

"Look, I don't need your sympathy, all right? I don't need you!" she snapped, putting her head on her desk. She didn't see Lucien's shocked look, but she could easily imagine it. She couldn't stop the tears from falling. "The assignment was at Ottery St. Catchpole. That was where Ron lived, and Harry too. That was our summer home, and now it's in ruins. Nothing seems real anymore. Death's all around me and I can't fight it!"

She felt a warm, strong hand on her shoulder, and she looked up, her eyes still streaming. Lucien looked down at her with a slight grin on his face. Sometimes he did remind her of Draco, but he wasn't anything like the Draco Malfoy she'd known in high school. _–But you never really knew him, Hermione…. Like I wanted to! The slimy git,-_ she thought.

She watched Lucien glance at the timepiece, and her gaze followed his. "Holy cricket!" she exclaimed. It was already eight o'clock.

"You can leave now, if you wish. Just, keep this on you," Lucien said, handing her a small phone.

"But, it's a Muggle cell phone," Hermione said, astonished, looking at the little piece of plastic in her hand.

"It makes for quick transfer of information and we can easily get a hold of you if you keep this with you, at all times," Lucien explained. She shrugged, buying the explanation for the moment.

"At least I know how to use one, right?" she said, making an attempt to smile and break the melancholy mood that had settled in around them. She tossed her hair off her shoulder, and it landed gracefully on her back. She consciously felt it fluttering on her back. She looked into his eyes again. They seemed like silver, hanging in delicate strands from the deep, jet-black pupils. They were endless, it seemed, like their story could go on forever.

Lucien smiled. They lit up instantly. –_I could fall in love with him,-_ she thought dangerously. _–What are you thinking, girl! Could you fall in love so easily again? After what happened?_- she thought, and with that she ripped her eyes away from his, focusing somewhere behind him. Lucien looked puzzled; she could see that from her peripheral vision.

He cleared his throat and her eyes focused on him again, but not his eyes. He smiled at her and pressed the phone harder into her palm.

"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then?" he said professionally. He seemed very good at that. She wondered if it was some kind of cover-up for a sensitive soul. She smiled, but pushed the thought out of her head.

"Tomorrow, yes," she said politely, turning around on her heel, walking toward the door. She turned around again and tossed him a light wave, which he returned, standing still in the middle of the office. "Aren't you leaving?" she asked.

"I have some extra work to do," he explained. "Research and such. My work's never done."

Hermione nodded and walked out of the office, feeling his stare upon her as she retreated. She took one glance back at the office, just as the door was closing. She could see the dim candlelight shining off his pale, steel-colored eyes. She smiled sadly and walked over to the stairs and began to descend them.

She exchanged greetings with the various witches and wizards she passed on the stairs until she reached the bottom floor. She walked out of the Ministry and onto the darkened London streets.

"It isn't love, it's robbery, I'm sleeping with the ghost of you and me©," she whispered under her breath. Her mind ran back to Ron and Harry and she sighed, walking down the streets, her eyes upon the ground. "I miss you guys."

She walked down the streets until the people around her thinned out, and she became one of only a few walking on the street. She lived far across town in a little flat, on the third story. With work, it was about sixteen flights of stairs a day, but she could do with the exercise in her opinion. She honestly couldn't wait to get home and sleep, hoping she wouldn't have another nightmare like she had been having.

She ran into someone as she was walking down the street, bumping her shoulder against what felt like the other person's shoulder blade.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry!" she exclaimed, and glanced back to see whom she'd hit. The person was swathed in a black cloak, and all she could see was a glowing pair of red eyes.

The instant she looked into his eyes, he vanished without a sound, and she was standing there, staring at thin air. She got a chill running up her spine and wrapped her arms around herself goose bumps making the hair on her arms stand straight up.

She broke into a sprint and ran all the way back to her flat, darting up the stairs and unlocking her door in a flurry. She slipped into her living space and shut the door hurriedly. She undressed quickly, slipping into a light pink silk nightgown. She breathed deeply, trying to calm down.

"It was a figment," she said under her breath, pulling her hair up into a messy bun. She went into the lavatory and washed her face thoroughly to clear her head and relaxed a bit.

She yawned widely and collapsed onto her bed. The white cotton sheets threatened to swallow her as she curled into them. She crawled up to her pillows and pulled her comforter up to her chin, shutting her eyes.

The image of the red eyes flashed across her closed eyes. She shut them tighter, and tears began to fall again.

She didn't want to remember anything right now. She just wished for sleep. Blissful, empty, fulfilling sleep. The red eyes wouldn't leave her memory, however.

"Just leave me alone," she whispered, curling into the fetal position and willing herself to sleep, and to forget that events of her first day as an Auror. Suddenly, above all of the heartache and pain, she thought of Lucien. "I'll have to tell him about the red eyes," she whispered, but her mind was saying something completely different. _–I could love that man,-_ she thought to herself, and a small smile crept onto her face, and she finally drifted off to sleep, her body relaxing into the pillowy softness of her bed

(Song Line ©BBMak)


	5. Break Me, Shake Me

Chapter Five: Break Me, Shake Me

Draco had watched Hermione leave, and turned to his own work, sighing at how little work he had gotten done today, and swore to not pay quite so much attention to his new female partner. This kind of thing had never affected him before. Why now?

-_Because you're in love with her, you git,-_ he thought to himself, shaking his head slightly, knowing that was indeed the reason why.

Draco had stayed at the office until about ten-thirty that night, poring over files and thinking. Everyone thought "Lucien" was a workaholic because he always stayed later than the rest of the workers. The truth was, however, that he stayed there because he didn't want to go home. At the office, he never felt alone…

Especially not tonight.

While he was working on one of the files, planning out how he was going to take care of this, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck. He turned around quickly, to see no one behind him.

"Strange," he muttered to himself, turning back around to pack up his briefcase, having had enough of work for the moment. He picked up his briefcase, opening the door with his left hand pressed flat on the door.

He made his way out of the Ministry with quick, brisk steps. He had to control his breathing; it was becoming fast and harsh. He walked quickly, in the same direction Hermione had a couple of hours before.

He kept glancing behind him, feeling as if something, or someone, was following him. He shivered, though the night was temperate and glanced behind him again. He couldn't shake the feeling.

"You always were a twitchy little ferret, Malfoy," came a very distinct voice. He looked around him and saw two people clad all in black. The voice he'd heard was the voice of his old professor, Severus Snape. His eyes widened in shock, but he regained his composure.

"Who's this Malfoy you speak of?" he asked in his most daring tone.

"We know who you are, Draco," came the other voice, silky and snake-like. It froze Draco's insides into ice. "You're too much like your father for us not to recognize your traitorous filth."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped, turning his back on the pair. "I'm nothing like my father."

"_Crucio!"_ cried the snake-like voice, and Draco fell to the ground, writhing in pain. He wouldn't scream, however, and that seemed to be what the man wanted. "Scream for me, Draco, like you did that night. Bow to my will. Surely you don't like being my enemy."

"I'd rather be your enemy than fight with you for a ruthless cause," Draco replied through gritted teeth. "You took everything from me! _Sectumsempra!"_

The man bearing down on him suddenly screeched in pain, his robes and the front of his body split, blood spewing from his torso. Draco got up quickly.

"You insolent fool! How dare you use my spell against the Dark Lord!" shouted Snape, but Draco had already stumbled up.

"I'll use it on you too!" Draco shouted. "_Stupefy_!" he shouted, pointing his wand at his old professor, and red sparks flew at him, knocking him over. The Dark Lord was moaning in pain on the ground in front of Draco.

Draco suddenly got incredibly dizzy, and his knees buckled under him. His head began spinning and he fell to his knees. His vision began to blur and black out. He saw Voldemort raise his wand toward him.

"_Avada_…" he heard his voice echo in his head, and he shut his eyes, which wasn't a very good idea. He passed out instantly, thinking that he would never wake up and he would never tell Hermione Granger the truth.

Speaking of Hermione, she heard the commotion (as the squabble happened in front of her flat), placed a silencing spell on the rest of the complex, and rushed down to see what it was. As soon as she reached the ground level, and descended the steps, she saw Lucien on the ground and a figure in black robes, raising his wand, chanting the beginning of the infamous Killing Curse.

"_Expelliarmus_!" she shouted, and the figure's wand flew away from him. She took the wand, and pointed it at him, her wand beside it. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" she chanted, and the figure went rigid, flat as a board on the concrete.

She ran down the stairs to meet Lucien, his eyes rolled back in his head. She bit her lip and slipped her arm under his and attempted to lift him up on her shoulder. She sighed and pulled her wand out again, glancing to make sure no Muggles were about.

"_Mobilicorpus_," she whispered, and Lucien began levitating beside her, and she guided him up the steps of the apartment building, all the way up to her third floor flat.

She guided him to her small couch, mumbling the countercurse and he landed with a soft "thump" on her couch. He groaned and his face contorted as if he were in pain. She furrowed her eyebrows and glanced him over.

There didn't seem to be much of anything wrong with him, except that his movements were rather stiff. Whoever it was had obviously used some sort of spell on him. –_Cruciatus Curse maybe?-_ she thought. –_Looked enough like Death Eaters. They almost used Avada Kedavra on him.-_ She sighed, looking around. She ran her hand through her hair, pondering what she was going to do next.

"Might as well let him stay here for the night," she muttered. "He's in no condition to go anywhere."

She grabbed a spare blanket from her linen closet and put it over Lucien's sleeping body. She touched his face softly, and he moaned softly, almost nuzzling it in his dreaming state. She smiled and stroked his head a moment, before walking back to her bedroom.

Her mind wouldn't stop working as she pondered what she had seen. Two men, she presumed, in black, attacking Lucien, for no apparent reason. _–Unless he has something that he hasn't told me.-_ She sighed and turned over, trying not to ponder it more. She needed the sleep. But it was rather bizarre.

"Strange," she muttered, same as Lucien had about an hour before. She fell into bed promptly and curled up into the fetal position, resuming her rather fitful sleep.


	6. Behind Grey Eyes

Chapter Six: Behind Grey Eyes

The night passed with both Draco and Hermione sleeping fitfully. Hermione began having nightmares, reliving Harry's death, and the day she realized Ron was missing. She watched, inside her mind, as Harry fell before her in a blaze of bright green light, falling with a sickening thud to the ground. She sobbed softly in her sleep.

Draco's mind churned out the day after he failed to kill Dumbledore, and his battle with the Dark Lord. He remembered the pain and loss he felt when Snape put him up in front of Voldemort, making him admit he hadn't done as he was instructed. He looked away from the Dark Lord, willing himself not to cry, and saying he couldn't do it.

It was then he was told his mother had been killed, and his father had died in Azkaban, because he couldn't take it. He had fallen to his knees at that moment, and the sobs dammed in his chest had released.

A silent tear ran down both their faces as the slept, watching these horrific movies of their pasts.

Draco woke up with a groan, his head pounding. He sat up, the world spinning around about him. He rubbed his head and his hair fell in his face. He was startled to see it was black and not his platinum blonde.

It seemed the Cruciatus Curse had given him temporary amnesia. He scratched his head and glanced around.

He scratched his head and glanced around. It looked very much like a Muggle home. –_What the hell am I doing here?-_ he thought. –_What happened?-_

"Where the bloody hell am I?" he mumbled.

"You're in my house, silly," came a female voice from behind him. He glanced behind him and his eyes landed on Hermione Granger.

"What the…?" he said softly. "I think I hit my head or something." He sighed and threw the blanket off him impatiently.

"No, you didn't," Hermione replied. She ran her hand through her hair. "You were hit by the Cruciatus Curse, Lucien, and maybe something else."

-_Lucien?-_ he asked himself, giving her a quizzical look. "What the hell?" he asked again. He was completely disoriented.

"Lucien, are you all right?" she asked, concerned. Her hair hung in front of her face, her eyes sparkling with worry.

"Who the bloody hell is Lucien!" Draco snapped. "And what am I doing in your house, Granger?" Hermione looked taken aback.

"_You're_ Lucien!" Hermione said. _–Oh dear, he must have hit his head really hard or something. He doesn't remember a thing.-_ "you were on your way home from work, I suppose, and you were ambushed by two men, I presume, in black cloaks. One was about to kill you when I stopped him. You _are _Lucien Winslow, aren't you?"

"NO!" Draco said.

"Then who the bloody hell are you?" Hermione snapped back at him, looking into his eyes impatiently.

"What do you mean 'who the bloody hell am I?'" Draco said, but he got dizzy again and fell back on the sofa. The last year hit him like an oncoming train.

"You're Draco Malfoy," Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts. He looked at her with wide eyes. He cursed under his breath. He sat back up, and had regained his composure, being less and less like his old self, whereas he was being how he was when he and Hermione went to school together.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, taking a deep breath and his grey eyes locked with her honey ones. He ran both his hands through his hair, knowing precisely why she thought that.

"Because of how you are…were acting," she replied, looking at him. Her eyes were confused, her face drawn into a quizzical look. "Are you schizophrenic?"

"No, not exactly," he replied, scratching the back of his scalp nervously. He let it all slip. –_How could that have happened?-_

"You are Lucien Winslow, correct?" Hermione asked in a tentative voice. Draco took in a deep breath. "You're not, are you?"

"Not exactly," he replied once again. –_How am I going to explain this? Can she keep it a secret? Will she use it against me? I don't know,-_ he thought.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly?'" Hermione asked, her voice rising.

"There…is no Lucien Winslow," Draco admitted. "I made him up so I could work for the Ministry."

"Then who are you?" Hermione pressed, leaning forward, excited and afraid at the same time.

"You already guessed who I am," Draco admitted in a soft voice. Hermione's eyes widened and her eyebrows threatened to disappear into her hair.

"Draco…?" Hermione whispered. He smiled sadly and looked away from her. He tucked his hair behind his ears, his silvery steel eyes staring at the ground.

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked, a single tear falling form her eye. He looked up at her, seeing the tear drop.

"What did it matter to you?" he asked in a soft voice. "You loathed me. For all I know, you still do."

"No, Draco, you have that wrong," Hermione said. "It was always you who hated me." Draco looked up.

"No, never," he whispered.

They looked into each other's eyes. Years of misunderstandings spanned between them, and Draco gave a sorrowful laugh.

"What stupid children we were," he mumbled. "No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind grey eyes; and no one knows what it's like to be hated, to be fated to telling only lies©."

(Song Lyrics ©The Who)


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